In a glimpse, the hair on her skin stood straight, the shimmer in her eyes turning into a dark glow. The image of a man covered in blood rose into her mind so strong, she saw the face clear as day. It grinned at her and in the next moment, the clash of thunder broke down on the King's house and startled her. The hands shaking from the sudden vibration of the ground, Rùna stormed out of the hall and into her room, safe from the people, the storm outside, but not the one inside her mind. The images returned and showed her more of a future she had yet to understand, and learn about the man in her vision.
Never had she seen him before, not with her eyes, nor with the touch of her hands, the blue eyes, like the crushing waves of the fjord, and the darkness of the world that waited beyond the mountains around the fjord. The man stood upon a battlefield, his arms held out, a battle cry sounding from his lungs so loud it shook the ground he stood upon. The screech of a raven cut through his cry and a black bird flew above him and over the vikings awaiting the orders from their king.
As the king turned to his right, the image changed from the leader on a hill looking down on his subjects, to a mighty warrior fighting amongst brothers and sisters on the battlefield, winning the war. Blood dripped from the axe inside his tight grip to the ground that turned into a fjord of crimson.
The long white dress turning red from the blood, the feet drenched in the red fjord, she stood there, the hand of the king in hers. His smile so close, the stench of the fallen men on his skin took her over and forced her to turn from him. However he did not let go and held onto her even when the blood on his armour mixed with the soft woven fabric of her dress and left them both dancing in an ocean of red, surrounded by the screams of death and the battle cries of vikings that swung their swords and axes at the enemies.
A metallic taste filled her mouth as the King's lips pressed onto hers, his eyes laying upon her as they became one. And once more the image spun into a swirl of colours, smells and screams until it grew so bright it blinded. Then with the crack of thunder it all fell into embers and turned into darkness, releasing the poor princess onto her bed, falling to the soft sheets that caught her exhausted body after the battle she had fought, hidden from the sight of others.